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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031229">Even Superman Sins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicismagic/pseuds/musicismagic'>musicismagic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League (2017), Superman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Seven Deadly Sins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:36:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicismagic/pseuds/musicismagic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The seven deadly sins - Envy, Greed, Gluttony, Wrath, Lust, Sloth and Pride.</p><p>As Clark gets closer to Bruce he has a brush with each of the deadly sins.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>262</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Envy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a random idea that came to me after watching Justice League.<br/>I've never written SuperBat before so I hope it's not to OOC.</p><p>Constructive criticism is welcome.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clark stood outside the manor with the rest of the team - minus Bruce, of course, as he was probably waiting inside to give them their first tour of the finished rebuild.</p>
<p><br/>The place was unrecognisable from the state it had been in a year ago, when he first discussed his plans with Diana and Alfred. The gardens were tamed once again, with a running track, archery range and outside exercise space on one side of the long drive and a lush lawn on the other. The manor looked to have been restored with utmost care on the outside, but Clark had no doubt that, on the inside, it would the pinnacle of technology.</p>
<p><br/>Victor and Barry were stood slightly to the left of the door, chattering and grinning good naturedly. They seemed to have been the two members of the group to hit it off the best and most quickly. Barry was never phased by any of Victors new enhancements, but instead took great delight in helping him test them and learn to control them. Apparently, Barry had even started hanging out at STAR labs when he wasn't working at the CCPD crime lab. Clark was happy for them both to have found someone to relate to among the chaos of becoming a superhero.</p>
<p><br/>Diana and Arthur were stood to his right. Their camaraderie came more from mutual respect than from actual friendship, and they were quietly making more and more ludicrous guesses as to what exactly they might find in the manor when Bruce finally opened the doors.</p>
<p><br/>"Do you think he'll have put a pool in for me?" Arthur asked, rubbing his hands together in expectation.</p>
<p><br/>"I'm sure he'll have thought the lake would be suitable for your needs."</p>
<p><br/>"Ohhh, what about a kitchen? Do you think he's put in a kitchen?" Barry asked, him and Victor moving closer to join in the conversation.</p>
<p><br/>"No. I'm certain that Bruce has failed to put a kitchen in a place where we'll be working, training and where he'll be living?" Arthur replied with a roll of his eyes.</p>
<p><br/>Luckily, the door opened before Barry could respond, and Alfred was stood framed in the doorway.</p>
<p><br/>"Good morning gentlemen, and Miss Prince." Alfred greeted them, with a smile and nod at Diana. "Please follow me."</p>
<p><br/>Victor, Barry and Arthur jostled to get through the door first, Diana and Clark sharing a grin at their antics as they followed behind.</p>
<p><br/>Arthur gave a long low whistle as they stood in the entrance hall and let the door close behind them.</p>
<p><br/>Directly in front of them was a fireplace, over six feet tall and carved beautifully from a pale yellow sandstone. Clark imagined the stone once carried the Wayne family crest, but it was now carved with the symbol they had all agreed on - the symbol of the Justice League. To the right of the fireplace was a large staircase, carpeted in the deep red of Diana's armour and trimmed with golden accents. To the right of the fireplace was a single door, and there were huge double doors in the walls to their right and left. The ceiling clearly went right up to the roof, with a beautiful chandelier hanging down into the space above their heads.</p>
<p><br/>Alfred stood in front of the fireplace with a small smile on his face as they took in the entryway. He was unused to seeing the heroes temporarily stunned so he took a moment to drink it in. But only a small moment. There were things to do after all.</p>
<p><br/>"Upstairs you will find all of the living space. Master Wayne's private apartments and the guest bathrooms and bedrooms have all been relocated onto the first floor to allow the ground floor to become dedicated space for the League." Alfred swept to the double doors on the right and opened them with a flourish. "This is your main room."</p>
<p><br/>The team moved into the space to see a long, oak paneled room, with another fireplace halfway along the wall on the left and with huge windows on the right, overlooking the new training grounds. The only furniture was a large oak table with six chairs in the center of the room. It looked like an old fashioned dining room to Clark, who was slightly surprised by the lack of equipment.</p>
<p><br/>"Well, it's all…..very…..nice?" Barry said, the slight uptick at the end making it sound like a question. It was clear that he, Arthur and Victor were distinctly underwhelmed.</p>
<p><br/>Alfred moved to the wall next to the door and placed his palm on a small wooden panel. At least, it looked wooden, until it glowed blue at his touch and blinds began to close over all of the windows. As soon as the blinds were down, six panels on the left hand wall began to glow, each with a different, and very recognisable symbol. The panels swung inwards and upwards and out slid a row of equipment, a desk and a multi-screened computer clearly connected to multiple satellites, CCTV cameras and TV stations. The ceiling at the far end of the room slid backwards and a large screen dropped down, the Justice League symbol projected onto it.</p>
<p><br/>"Wow!" Barry breathed, zipping around the room and checking out each of the different members stations. There were at least 10 panels around the room that had not moved, but Clark had no doubt that there were spaces for new members behind each and every one. Arthur and Victor moved to look at their own areas while Diana had moved to stand beside Alfred. Clark stepped over to his own space while they talked.</p>
<p><br/>"This is even better than I imagined when he described it to me. He's been busy!" Diana ended the sentence on a slight laugh, making Alfred smile as well.</p>
<p><br/>"When is he ever not busy, Miss Prince." There was a strange amount of melancholy in Alfred's voice as he said that, and it made Clark's heart twist slightly.</p>
<p><br/>Alfred raised his voice slightly so the others could hear him. "You'll have the opportunity to make adjustments to your station as you begin to make more regular use of them, but for now shall we move on?"</p>
<p><br/>The group moved back to join Alfred near the door as he once again placed his hand on the wall panel, and the room shifted back to its previous wood paneled elegance. They followed Alfred out of the room.</p>
<p><br/>"Before you leave today, we will need to programme your own bio-metric accesses to the facilities." He said as they crossed back into the entrance hall. "The door beside the fireplace opens into the communal kitchen, dining and lounge area. The fridge will be stocked automatically, however should you have any specific dietary needs please let me know and I will accommodate." He opened the next set of double doors and led them into a corridor. On their left were the large Gothic windows looking out over the lawn, but on their right was a wall of glass separating what appeared to be once another large hall into several smaller rooms.</p>
<p><br/>"This area is designated as laboratory and private work space for each of you. Depending on your needs, the rooms will be kitted out accordingly, however Master Wayne has already made some assumptions for the two of you." Alfred said, nodding towards Barry and Victor. The first two glass rooms were empty, with the symbols for Aquaman and Superman above them. The next two, Cyborg and Flash's symbols above, had been turned into laboratories. Cyborgs lab seemed to lean more towards computer science than anything else, as there were several desks with different screens and drawers of hardware, circuit boards, wires and tools racked up along one wall. Barry's lab was definitely the lab of a crime scene investigator - at least, from what Clark had seen on tv anyway. There were glass cupboards filled with chemicals, two fume cupboards, centrifuges, microscopes and a piece of equipment Clark didn't recognise but that had Barry pressing himself against the glass to get a look at. His eyes were shining with suppressed glee and he turned back to Alfred, who gave him a small smile before moving on once more. They moved past the last room with a symbol, Wonder Woman's, and past another half dozen that were still empty and dark, before reaching a large metal door, oddly incongruous with the wooden paneling and the large Gothic windows surrounding it. Again, Alfred pressed his palm against the wall, and the door slid open. The group stepped inside the lift and began descending. Clark turned to Alfred and opened his mouth to speak… but was beaten to his question by Diana.</p>
<p><br/>"Where is Bruce? I thought he'd be the one giving us the tour?" she asked, a very small crinkle between her eyes showing the frown her mouth refused to form.</p>
<p><br/>"Master Wayne is waiting for you all in the cave, you'll see him in just a moment."</p>
<p><br/>Clark wondered if Diana could also hear the slight change in Alfred's heart rate that suggested he was under some kind of stress.</p>
<p><br/>Before Clark could ask his own follow-up questions, the lift stopped moving and the door slid open. The cave was almost unrecognisable from when they had last been inside. Of course, Clark didn't know that because he had never seen it before, but the others all gave small gasps of appreciation when they stepped out of the lift.</p>
<p><br/>The metal walkway they had stepped out onto looked down on a huge gym and training area, boxed in with what looked like glass but was woven through with fine golden and silver wires. It was clearly designed to contain their powers while they trained, but how it was going to do that was beyond Clark's knowledge. There was an area to train with weights, a large mat for sparring, even a section with a pommel horse, beam and gymnastic rings.</p>
<p><br/>Behind them was a large hanger space, containing the new troop carrier, the batmobile, two batchoppers and two batplanes, plus another number of vehicles that had yet to be given their bat monikers. To the left was what looked like a large medical wing, with beds, MRI, Ultrasounds and a myriad of other equipment designed to help them when they were injured. To the right was clearly still dedicated to the Bat. The workstations and engineering space were covered in Bat equipment and Bruce sat at one of the desks, his back turned to them while he finished typing.</p>
<p><br/>Alfred moved forward and tapped him gently on the shoulder and Bruce turned his chair to face them all.</p>
<p><br/>"So? What do you think?" he asked with a small quirk of the lips that counts as a grin on the Bat.</p>
<p><br/>He looked perfect. Well groomed, immaculately tailored clothes and his usual smirk on his face. When he stood up, it was with the tiniest wince, but seeing Alfred reach out to him was enough to tell Clark that Bruce was injured, possibly badly. Diana moved to his other side instantly, a hand on his shoulder that wasn't immediately shrugged off as it would have been if Clark had stepped forward instead.</p>
<p><br/>An uncomfortable feeling started squirming its way through Clark. One he couldn't name, but didn't like.</p>
<p><br/>"What is it, Bruce?" Diana asked, a softness to her voice that seemed reserved only for the Bat.</p>
<p><br/>"It's nothing." Bruce tried to deflect, but the hitch to his breath betrayed him.</p>
<p><br/>"It's hardly nothing, Master Wayne. It's four broken ribs, bruised kidneys and spleen, and an internal bleed that was only stopped two hours ago." The look Bruce shot Alfred was worthy of the Bat at his most dangerous, but Alfred merely raised an eyebrow and moved to one of the desks to grab a hand scanner.</p>
<p><br/>Alfred moved back to the group and began taking bio-metric scans, while Diana stayed at Bruce's side, speaking in hushed tones. Of course, Clark heard every word.</p>
<p><br/>"How?" she asked, concern lacing her entire demeanor. Bruce turned in towards her, their bodies almost touching, and Clark felt that strange squirming intensify.</p>
<p><br/>"12 against 1 wasn't the best odds." He tried to shrug but aborted the motion with a sharp hiss.</p>
<p><br/>"May I?" Diana's hands hovered over Bruce's torso and he gave a tiny nod. Bruce unbuttoned his waistcoat as Diana's slim hand reached to un-tuck his shirt and unbutton it from the bottom up. Clark finally recognised the unpleasant squirming feeling - he was envious.</p>
<p><br/>He had no idea where it had come from - he'd never harbored any kind of attraction or romantic feelings for Diana. She was beautiful, smart and capable, but she had never caught his eye in that way. Why would he envy their closeness?</p>
<p><br/>Diana had unbuttoned Bruce's shirt just past his belly button and swept it to the side to look over his injuries. The entire left side of his torso was covered in bright red, fresh bruising. She lifted his shirt just high enough to reveal the bottom of his ribs and applied gentle pressure. Bruce hissed again, doing everything in his power to hide his pain. Diana released the pressure but didn't remove her hand, and suddenly Clark realised it wasn't Bruce he envied. It was Diana.</p>
<p><br/>As this realisation washed over him, Diana removed her hand from Bruce's ribs and helped him to re-button his shirt and waistcoat.</p>
<p><br/>"You need to be more careful, Bruce. We still need you." She stepped away from Bruce then, moving back towards the group.</p>
<p><br/>Alfred stepped in front of Clark with the scanner, forcing him to drag his eyes away from Bruce leaning against his computer table with his head bowed.</p>
<p><br/>"I just need your palm print, retinal scan and a voice print. Palm here please."</p>
<p><br/>Clark followed all of Alfred's instructions mindlessly as his brain tried to process what he was feeling.</p>
<p><br/>He was jealous of Diana's closeness with Bruce. Her ability to get him to be more open, allow her near.</p>
<p><br/>It kind of made sense? Maybe?</p>
<p><br/>Bruce had bought a bank just so he could give his mother back the farm, but other than a few brief emails and one or two check ins with the rest of the league, he'd had very little contact with the man. The Bat had made it clear early on that Gotham was his territory and no one wanted to incur his anger by stepping on his toes, so they'd all gone their own ways. Diana was mostly in Europe, Barry and Victor both in Central City, Arthur was a bit of a nomad, but would stay in touch thanks to the waterproof phone Bruce had engineered just for him, and Clark stayed in Metropolis. But he wanted to be more than just teammates with them. He wanted friends. To finally have people around who were something like him. Who could appreciate some of the struggles he faced, and commiserate when things went wrong.</p>
<p><br/>That must be it.<br/>He envied their friendship. He wanted to be Bruce's friend.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Pride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The League had been working from the new headquarters for six months now. They all still live in their own places most of the time, but stayed in their assigned rooms overnight whenever they need. It was often enough that they had all started keeping spare clothes and toiletries and had their favourite breakfast foods stocked in the kitchen.</p>
<p>The day after being shown the newly refurbished manor, the team had got together and discussed the future. What were they going to represent, how could they keep the world safe. The first thing they had agreed on was a monitor duty. Someone watching the various police, military, space and news feeds that Bruce had engineered them access to in order to identify when there was a threat or disaster that might need their attention and notify the relevant member. Then they had spent many days discussing what type of threat deserved each different members attention and who would be willing to respond.</p>
<p>Despite the variety of different characters on the team, the conversations went fairly smoothly. There was some butting of heads between Arthur and Bruce (but that seemed to be par for the course with those two) and with Arthur and Victor (also, not unexpected), but Diana always managed to mediate and bring things back under control quickly.</p>
<p>They now had a protocol in place for almost any scenario, and monitor duty was working well for everyone. Alfred took duty during the week, as he would only be in the manor anyway, and then the rest of the team rotated overnight and weekend duty. They had gained new members already.</p>
<p>Hal Jordan, former test pilot and now member of the Green Lantern Corps, had helped them when an airliner had lost all engine power thanks to industrial sabotage.</p>
<p>Bruce returned from a five day business trip to Star City with Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, and Dinah Drake, the Black Canary to add to the roster. Some very clever retro-engineering had seen the creation of the earths first transporter, which made travelling from their respective cities to the Watchtower (as the main room of the manor had been renamed) far easier.</p>
<p>Between the 9 members of the league, and Alfred (who was a member in all but name), monitor duty was not as onerous as it could have been had it only been the 7 of them.</p>
<p>Over the last six months, Clarks life had changed quite dramatically. First, his relationship with Lois had ended. Amicably enough that she was still his closest friend, but the fear brought on by the thought of their relationship ever again being used to cause suffering for others was enough to put an end to their romance. Secondly, he'd cultivated friendships with pretty much everyone in the League. Hal could be a little juvenile and brash for him sometimes, and he struggled to follow some of Barrys caffeine fuelled science rants, but he now had a group of people in his life that he could relate to more than any others he'd known before.</p>
<p>That feeling of envy where Bruce was concerned had faded as they had become closer. It still raised its head at odd moments. Watching Bruce help Barry with an experiment in his lab, that ended with both of them covered in bright purple powder, had been one such moment. When the dust cloud had settled and while Barry was stammering apologies and desperately trying to brush the dust out of Bruces hair, Clark had been caught by the feeling again. Bruces face was neutral, but his eyes were sparkling, and the fondness with which Bruce looked at Barry, when the speedster had handed him a towel that was also entirely purple, had been enough to make Clark stop in his tracks for just a moment.</p>
<p>Clark had stopped over analysing the feeling. It was perfectly natural to envy anyone who could get that kind of response from a man as emotionally distant as Bruce. Nothing to dwell on at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clark had just handed over to Barry for monitor shift and, as it was a Saturday and he didn't have to work, he decided to head down into the cave and see if Bruce wanted to get some breakfast together. He took the lift down to the cave but paused as a crashing sound rang through the cave. He  stepped out onto the walkway and made his way to where the noise had come from. Bruce was sat in front of a series of screens, cowl off but otherwise suited up. The floor around him was covered in files and the remains of a smashed mug, as though they'd been swept angrily off the desk. Bruce had deep, dark circles under his eyes and was clearly running on almost no sleep.</p>
<p>Everyone knew why.</p>
<p>There had been nine kidnappings of children from Gotham, and even the Bat was stumped. He could find no clues, no evidence and no connection between the children. They were all different ages from 6 to 15, three White, two Black, one Hispanic, two Asian and one Native American. Five girls and four boys. Their only connection was that they were all born in Gotham, but three had been born at Gotham General, four at Gotham Maternity Clinic and two home births. They had been taken at different times of day, with different M.O.s and no one had been able to trace where they went. After the fourth child went missing, Bruce had called Clark and asked him to scan the city, as much as he could, to try and find them, but they were nowhere Clark could see them either. Bruce was convinced this was the work of one group, but even the Bat on a rampage through the criminals of Gotham hadn't shaken loose any information.</p>
<p>Bruce had four different screens showing different pieces of CCTV footage, all from around the time and place of four of the abductions. Clark had never seen Bruce look so dejected before. He was usually so assured and controlled that this outburst of emotion seemed almost indecent, a private thing that Clark should not be watching even the aftermath of. Instead he let his eyes rest on the footage Bruce had playing. A slight blip on one of the screens caught his eye. Just a momentary darkening and then brightening that he couldn't be sure he'd really seen until it was repeated on another, and then another, and then the next. He stepped forward and rewound all of the pieces of footage before watching them again. There. And there. And again on the other two. He rewound once more to be sure before turning to get Bruces attention. He didn't need to. Bruce was watching Clark intently. Something almost desperate in the way he was staring.</p>
<p>"I think I've spotted…something" he said, before starting the tapes up again. "Each tape has the same thing. The video suddenly gets darker and then lighter again about two minutes before the kids are taken. It only lasts for a split second, Barry and I are probably the only ones who would actually register it, but it happened on all four of these videos."</p>
<p>"Show me"</p>
<p>Clark rewound the video again before Bruce shouldered him out of the way and slowed the playback. At the slowest speed Bruce could play the tapes, the blip only lasted for a half a second, but it was enough for Bruce. A small light of new hope was flickering in his eyes as he began working again, flicking from one screen to another, from a page of coding to web pages on computer viruses to police files and crime scene reports, Bruce worked at a speed that Clark found deeply impressive for a human, especially one as exhausted as Bruce.</p>
<p>He would have been content to watch Bruce work for hours, and Bruce seemed utterly oblivious to his presence now he had a new lead to follow, but Barrys voice came through the speakers to alert him that a large fire had broken out in a Metropolis Mall. He changed into his suit and was out through the lake exit of the cave before the alert had finished echoing.</p>
<p>The fire was indeed large. Even by Supermans standards it was a dangerous blaze. No one knew how it had started, only that people started running from the food hall claiming they smelled gas before the whole area had been engulfed in flames. Superman couldn't simply blow out a fire this big out, especially not when the whole area was surrounded with cars, each of which had a fuel tank that could explode and add to the chaos. Instead, he quickly evacuated anyone he could find still in the building, and took direction from the chief fire officer in charge. It took less than 30 minutes to get the fire put out and made safe, but he had no opportunity for rest as Barry reeled off the coordinates of a runaway train in Star City.</p>
<p>By the time Superman had finished dealing with the train and had returned to the Watchtower to file his reports, Bruce was no longer in the cave.</p>
<p>It was Sunday night before he heard any news on the case.</p>
<p>Clark was back in his apartment, getting ready for bed, when his communicator beeped. He inserted the earpiece and tapped it once to open the line.</p>
<p>"Go ahead"</p>
<p>"I found them." Batmans modulated voice came through the tiny speaker</p>
<p>"Who? The kids?! Are they alright?"</p>
<p>"Humph, define alright? They were being held hostage in a drug lab and dosed with who knows what crap. But… they're alive, yeah."</p>
<p>Superman chose to ignore Bruces gruff attitude in favour of digging for more information.</p>
<p>"How did you find them?"</p>
<p>"The blip you spotted, wasn't any kind of hardware, software or viral glitch that I had ever seen. It led me to look into the security company running all the CCTV. Found a guy working for them who'd been doctoring all the footage to hide the kidnappers. A visit from the Bat convinced him to turn on the guys he was working for and, well, they never knew what hit 'em."</p>
<p>The dark satisfaction in Bruces voice made something fizzle down Clarks spine, but it was soon forgotten when Bruce carried on speaking.</p>
<p>"I might never have seen what you did. So I just wanted to say…..thank you."</p>
<p>Clark was struck dumb for a moment. Not because Bruce said thank you - he wasn't so rude that it was a rare thing to hear - but because the feeling of pride that overtook him was almost overwhelming. It split his face into a huge grin and he could feel himself flushing slightly. He'd been able to help solve something that even Batman couldn't crack. He was so absorbed in the feeling he almost forgot to reply.</p>
<p>"I… umm…" Clark took a breath "You're welcome. I'm glad I could help."</p>
<p>"Hmm. Batman out." Bruce signed off without any further conversation, leaving Clark to relish his pride and satisfaction. And if he dreamed of seeing Bruce smile at him and clapping him on the back for a job well done, it was only because he was pleased to have been able to help save a group of children from something awful. Even though none of the childrens faces made it into his dream.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sloth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>League movie night was something that Barry had been trying to organise almost from day one of their formation. Initially it had been rejected on the grounds that someone always had to be on monitor duty and the others were likely to be responding to emergencies or trying to manage their civilian identities. As the league had been growing, however, it became easier for small groups to get together and share some entertainment.</p><p>That was how Clark found himself in the communal kitchen using his heat vision to pop packs of microwave popcorn under Barrys direction. Because apparently it tasted better this way than being popped in the microwave, and Clark wasn't above using his powers for something seemingly so trivial when it brought so much joy to one of his teammates/friends.</p><p>Oliver was on monitor duty, and Hal and Dinah were available for anything small. Obviously, if a major emergency came up the team would respond, but for now Clark was looking forward to a fun, relaxing evening. He followed Barry into the lounge, where the furniture had been moved to surround the large screen tv, and threw himself down onto the only unoccupied sofa. Barry and Victor were sharing the other sofa, each leaning on an arm with their legs tangled in between them. Diana was curled up in an armchair, her hair loose and flowing over one shoulder, and Arthur was sprawled on the floor in a nest of what looked like every cushion in the manor.</p><p>Bruce was the only obvious absence, and Clark felt a slight pang in his chest at the idea of Bruce alone in the cave. He was distracted from his melancholy train of thought by flying popcorn, as Victor and Barry started competing to see who could catch the most kernels in their mouths in a row, however they were both appalling at it, and had pelted Clark, Diana and Arthur with more pieces than they had actually caught.</p><p>After about 15 minutes of their game - and only once they had both been hit squarely between the eyes by popcorn projectiles launched by a laughing Amazon - the boys settled down and they started the movie.</p><p>Diana and Arthur had both missed out on a lot of popular culture in their various ways, so Barry and Victor had made the decision that that needed to be rectified. Clark had expected them to choose Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or something similar, so he was quite surprised when the opening of "The Princess Bride" came up on the screen. He'd have been happy with Star Wars or Lord of the Rings too, but The Princess Bride was a classic and he felt himself grinning as he relaxed more deeply into the couch and settled in to enjoy the film. They'd only been watching for around 5 minutes when the lounge door opened and Bruce walked in. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black Gotham Rogues football shirt. There was a chorus of 'Bruce' and 'Batsy' (Arthur) as he made his way to the kitchen with a small wave. Clark heard the microwave switch on and the tell tale sounds of poping popcorn and couldn't hide his smile at the idea of Bruce actually joining them. He quickly sat up to make room on the couch before directing his attention back to the movie. A few minutes later Bruce wandered back into the room with a bowl of popcorn, m&amp;ms and reeses pieces.</p><p>Barry quickly looked up at him.</p><p>"Hey!!! How come you get the good stuff?! We only had popcorn!"</p><p>Bruce only quirked one side of his mouth up in a silent smirk as he threw a piece of each treat into the air in rapid succession. He tipped his head back and caught all three flawlessly before looking back at Barry with a wink. Another one of those sharp stabs of envy hit Clark at the playful gesture but he let it go as Bruce dropped to the other end of the sofa and kicked his feet up into the space between them. He kept his knees bent, taking up almost exactly half of the couch, and balanced the bowl of snacks on his lap, angling himself to watch the movie. Clark mirrored Bruces position, turning to put his feet back up on the sofa and absently picking at his own bowl of popcorn.</p><p>The group stayed like that for about 20 minutes, quietly enjoying the movie and the company. Just as Westley knocked out Inigo, the movie paused and Barry flashed away citing the need for more snacks. Everyone sighed good naturedly while they waited for Barry to return, throwing bags of treats in every direction as he resettled on the sofa with Victor and restarted the movie.</p><p>Clark glanced at Bruce every now and then, noticing little things about the man each time.</p><p>The long thin scars that extended down his left bicep from under his t-shirt, the patch on his right elbow that looked like an acid burn, the bruises that covered his knuckles from throwing countless punches night after night. Not for the first time he wondered how Bruce could still do this.</p><p>Clark was warm and comfortable and in good company. It was a rare thing for him to feel so relaxed. He didn't have to guard himself in any way here. So he stretched his legs longer across the couch, settling them on the outside of Bruces thigh without really thinking. It was only once the motion was complete, and he could feel the heat of Bruces body against his legs, that he realised that Bruce might not appreciate the invasion of his space. But Bruce didn't make any move to shrink away from Clarks proximity, so Clark left them where they were and carried on watching the film. On the screen, Westley was attacked by the ROUSs, while on the couch Bruce stretched himself out too, his legs resting between the back of the sofa and Clark. It felt nice, Clark thought abstractly. The warmth and safety and honesty of just being himself with friends was lulling him, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He shifted closer to the warmth of Bruce, his feet and calves now pressed against the others thighs. His hand came down to rest on his leg, but a slight tensing he wasn't responsible for told him he was resting on Bruce instead. He feigned sleep for a few seconds reluctant to move his hand away if he didn't have to. The muscles under his hand relaxed so Clark stayed where he was, eyes closed and pretending to sleep, the image of contentment and relaxation.</p><p>Internally, he was having a tiny, weeny bit of a freak out. Because he finally realised why seeing Bruce being pally with anyone else filled him with Envy, and why Bruces praise and gratitude caused Pride to swallow him whole. He could finally name it. Attraction.</p><p>He was attracted to Bruce-Batman-Wayne.</p><p>And lay here, soaking in his warmth, a hand on his leg and enjoying a brief moment of peace, Superman never wanted to move again. He'd happily waste away in comfort induced Sloth if it meant he could keep Bruce close and not have to deal with this new found realisation any time soon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Wrath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clark was attracted to Bruce. It had been more than two months since the movie night that had prompted that realisation, but Clark was still coming to terms with it. Not that it was a bad thing. It was just…inconvenient.</p><p>It wasn't like he couldn't control himself around Bruce, or that he'd suddenly become clumsy or tongue-tied around him either. It was just that, well, it was Bruce. He was a hard guy to read. He wore so many masks, both figurative and literal, that Clark wasn't quite sure where they stood half the time.</p><p> </p><p>He knew Superman and Batman worked well together as colleagues. The, now numerous, times they had fought side by side had been instinctual and harmonic. They could stand shoulder to shoulder before an army and know they'd cover each other's backs. The Bat was a coiled spring, tight and filled with potential when still, and explosive when allowed to uncoil and release that force upon his enemies. He possessed awe-inspiring focus and a profound determination that often bordered on the obsessive. He was dedicated to training his body, honing it to a brutal perfection, and yet was willing to put himself in extreme physical danger in order to accomplish his goals. He had almost no pride in his body, and no sense of preservation of it either. He would throw himself into battle carrying potentially life threatening injuries just as readily as he would when healed and well rested, but only where he felt that was what was tactically most sound. Because with Batman, tactics, strategy and advantage were key. He was a tool of justice, and tools sometimes got damaged in their use. Batman would give his injuries cursory care and throw himself back into patrol where most people would still be in hospital recovering. Superman was impressed by the Bat.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce Wayne, CEO, and Clark Kent, Reporter, had only met a couple of times since Clarks return. Both times were at society parties where Clark was working and Bruce was being Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne moved languidly. None of the explosive power of the Bat. Just the slow strut of a man who had complete confidence in his beauty. He was charming, but in that slightly overdone way that had people hanging on his every word, but shaking their heads as he walked away. He was generous, but lacked humility, and he excelled at nothing. Just scraping by on the genius of others and the family name. He could have his pick of the men or women that practically threw themselves at him, but chose to 'keep his options open'. He drank too much, despite Clark never actually seeing him finish a single drink, and any time that Bruce Wayne had had to leave a party early because he'd 'overindulged', the Bat would appear somewhere else within minutes, perfectly sober and precise as always. Clark Kent was begrudgingly amused by Bruce Wayne.</p><p> </p><p>But then there was Bruce. Just Bruce. Who existed somewhere between Bruce Wayne and the Bat. The dedicated investigator who would spend countless hours   searching for evidence that the police had missed or not had the equipment to see. The extraordinary actor who, despite being a celebrity on the cover of countless magazines and newspapers constantly, could infiltrate any group or gang or company without raising even the slightest suspicion. He was a leader, as much as he tried to push that role onto Diana and Clark, if not in name then in deed and experience. He moved with a fluid grace that was more feline than that of his chosen moniker. He rarely smiled, but often quirked his lips in a knowing smirk that was equal parts annoying and endearing. He was exceptionally gifted at all manner of things, as skilled with his hands as with his mind. Capable and confident in equal measure. Yeah, Clark was definitely more than a little fascinated by Bruce.</p><p> </p><p>And then there was the way he looked. Clark had never been one to dwell on the physical, it seemed a bit pointless when you could literally see beneath the skin, but with Bruce…wow! The older man had thick, luxurious, dark hair that was greying at the temples. His eyes were a deep blue that could put sapphires and sunlit skies and starlit oceans to shame. His body was a marvel of muscle and sinew and scars, hidden with whatever costume he needed at each moment.</p><p> </p><p>In the time since his revelation, Clark had spent his last moments before sleep imagining how that body might feel under his hands. How Bruces deep Gotham accented voice might sound moaning with pleasure, and how those strong capable hands would feel touching him. It had led to some very pleasant dreams.</p><p> </p><p>Clark was on monitor duty. It was 2am on a Tuesday morning and he was alone in the Watchtower. Bruce was out on patrol in Gotham and the rest of the League were sleeping, waiting for the alarm to sound if they were needed. Clark had been letting his mind wander while calm seemed to reign. He imagined sparring with Bruce, allowing the older man to get the upper hand briefly before flipping him onto his back and pinning him down. He could see in his minds eye the moment when Bruces eyes widened and dilated with the realisation that Clark wanted him, could imagine the look on his face as Clark closed the gap and kissed him.</p><p> </p><p>His daydream was progressing nicely when a monitor began to flash red and immediately switched to a news report. A female news anchor was on the screen and Clark pushed his daydream to the side to listen.</p><p> </p><p>"… coming in from the Narrows where the subjects of the most recent Arkham breakout claim to have Batman himself hostage. We've been asked to play a live feed coming from inside the warehouse, so viewers please be advised the content could be disturbing."</p><p> </p><p>The newscaster disappeared from the screen to be replaced with an extreme close up of a face covered with thick white makeup. As Harley Quinn stepped back from the camera, Clark saw Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Riddler and Poison Ivy, along with a horde of low level street thugs. They were in a large brick built room with no windows that could be seen in the small field of view. In the centre of the frame, flanked by the various villains, was Batman. Strung up by his wrists, feet dangling a foot off the floor and bleeding heavily from beneath the cowl.</p><p> </p><p>But his eyes were open, and he was staring straight into the camera. In the early days of the League Bruce had made it clear that Gotham was his territory, and that he worked alone. He would accept help only in the event of an occurrence he could not predict or handle. These included only disasters that could have the potential for high numbers of casualties. When it came to dealing with the criminal element of Gotham the league were not welcome. Despite Bruces injured state, Clark could tell that look into the camera was directed solely at him. And it clearly said "I don't need rescuing."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, hello there Gotham City!!" sing songed Harley, skipping back to the Joker twirling her baseball bat.</p><p> </p><p>"We've got a little surprise for you all!" Joker announce, planting a sloppy wet kiss on Harley when she reached him. "The Bat has been swooping his way around our fair city for nearly two decades now, thwarting and disabling and dismantling all of the little ventures me and my fellow…entrepreneurs have been setting up over the years." Joker paused to throw a few brutal blows over Bruces torso with Harleys bat, before returning it to her with a mockingly courteous bow. "Now, we think it's time the little bat be…retired from his duties. But not before we reveal his identity so he can be properly recognised for all his hard work!"</p><p> </p><p>The Joker dragged a small step ladder in front of Bruces suspended form and climbed up so that he was eye level with Bruce.</p><p> </p><p>Clark rose from his seat ready to rush to Bruces side before a voice stopped him.</p><p> </p><p>"They can't remove the mask."</p><p>Alfreds voice stilled Clark just as the Joker was hit with a vicious electric shock from the cowl. He howled as the force of it flung him off the ladder and back to the floor with a resounding thump.</p><p> </p><p>But the shock had also caused Bruce to convulse wildly. The look in Alfreds eyes told Clark that that was <em>not</em> supposed to happen. Alfred leant into the screen his eyes darting all over Bruces image with intense focus. It reminded Clark of the Bat.</p><p> </p><p>"They've somehow damaged the insulation that protects Master Bruce from the shock. If he receives another jolt it could cause serious damage." Alfreds voice was only marginally tighter than usual, but there was a deep fear in his eyes as he turned his gaze to Clark.</p><p> </p><p>The rush of air he felt as he took flight would usually be enough to calm his racing mind, but it did nothing this time. All he could think about was Bruce. Hanging limply from those chains, panting and gasping from the pain of how ever many volts that had just coursed through him from his own equipment.</p><p> </p><p>"His tracker has been disabled or damaged, so I can't pinpoint his location, but I can tell you the last recorded ping was the corner of 5th and Main, 26 minutes ago. Given the length of time it would likely take for a force to subdue the Bat and to get him strung up, I'm guessing you have a roughly 2-3 mile radius to work within."</p><p> </p><p>Alfreds voice shocked Clark. He had totally forgotten about his communicator, but it was a good job the butler was there. Clark had shot away from the manor so impetuously he didn't have a clue where to start looking. He was ready to scan the entire city, but of course that would have taken too much time. Thank god for Alfred.</p><p> </p><p>Over the earpiece he could hear Joker spitting like a cat and screaming obscenities, before a series of rapid thuds and huffed breaths. He could just imagine the rage with which the crazed villain was beating the suspended Bruce and it somehow focussed his mind into a single, pinpoint fury.</p><p> </p><p>Clark hovered about 200 feet above the intersection of 5th and Main and began to methodically sweep the surrounding buildings with his x-ray vision. When he found nothing, he flew in circles gradually expanding outwards. After two unbearable minutes of searching, he found a warehouse filled with heat signatures and one very familiar shape hanging from chains.</p><p> </p><p>"Alfred, warehouse on Dent Street, halfway between 12th and 11th."</p><p> </p><p>He didn't bother to wait for any acknowledgement, he simply tore into the building like a hurricane. In less than 12 seconds everyone was writhing around on the floor in various states of consciousness and pain.</p><p> </p><p>He stepped carefully up to the now unconscious Batman and released him from the chains. Superman lowered him to the floor, cursing the thin film of lead that Batman still insisted on lining his suit with.</p><p> </p><p>He made to lift the unconscious hero into his arms when his eyes fluttered open and his gravelly voice, devoid of the clearly broken modulator, gasped out.</p><p> </p><p>"Stay…until…police…arrive" he managed, clearly overwhelmed with agony.</p><p> </p><p>Superman opened his mouth to protest but, even half closed, Bruces eyes spoke volumes.</p><p> </p><p>"Police are less than a minute away, Superman. I'll prepare the med bay." Alfred paused before he added "You may want to disable the camera."</p><p> </p><p>Supermans eyes snapped up to the camera that was still broadcasting before he quickly melted the lens with a flash of heat vision.</p><p> </p><p>Sirens and blue flashing lights became visible and it was only a brief moment later that police and medical crews came bursting into the warehouse.</p><p> </p><p>Commissioner Gordon dispatched his officers to cuff all of the villains, while he made his way over to the wounded Batman.</p><p> </p><p>"He going to be ok?" Gordon asked, with tightly laced concern in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know, his armour is impervious to my x-ray vision."</p><p> </p><p>"I'll..be..fine." Batman gasped opening his eyes "They…ambushed me… when I… tried to stop... an attempted…rape. Young bartender…"</p><p> </p><p>"We've got her. She was only dazed, not knocked out, so she called it in as soon as she got to a phone. She's in the memorial hospital under guard. We would have got here sooner but we couldn't find you." the commissioner looked annoyed that he hadn't been able to help, before he smoothed his features and looked up at one of his officers that had just approached.</p><p> </p><p>"We're going to need to call in a few more ambulances, Sir. Everyone is pretty beat up." The office cast a glance at Superman, who finally took a second to observe the carnage his wrath had wrought. There were blood splatters everywhere and a number of man shaped dents in the drywall. Now he was listening to it, rather than focusing entirely on Batmans breaths, he could hear the gasping, wheezing, rattling breaths of a dozen people with broken ribs and crushed larynx.</p><p>Oddly, he felt no shame at all, just a renewed sense of anger and rage. They hurt Batman, they deserved it.</p><p> </p><p>"Get the badly injured ones in ambulances, if they can stand, they can ride with us. We'll have to get a few extra ER doctors in to deal but…" the commissioner walked away from the two heroes hunched on the floor as he directed the operation. He only looked back when Superman called to him.</p><p> </p><p>"Can I take him to receive treatment now?"</p><p> </p><p>The commissioner walked back to them briskly.</p><p>"Get him out of here. But, Superman? We may need to talk about this." He gestured to the injured men and women scattered around the warehouse.</p><p>Batman groaned with pain as Superman lifted him into a bridal carry.</p><p>"Of course, commissioner."</p><p> Superman prepared to take off before Gordon rested his hand briefly on Bruces cowl.</p><p>He raised his head and looked Superman in the eyes.</p><p>"Take care of him. Gotham still needs him. Even with the Justice League, we still need HIM."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Greed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am sooooo sorry for the delay in adding this chapter!<br/>My muse just fucked off, and then covid hit and lockdown with two small humans was not a place that my muse seemed to want to return to.</p>
<p>Fortunately she is back and I have a couple of new chapters and am half way through the last one so hopefully no more long waits!</p>
<p>(Although the way BoJo is going we'll be back in lock down soon enough so no telling what the muse will do then!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been 19 hours and 22 minutes since Bruce had lost consciousness in Superman's arms on the flight back to the Manor after Jokers attack, and Clark had spent 15 hours and 13 minutes right at Bruce's side, jealously guarding him from any further harm.</p>
<p>Every moment he had to spend away from Bruce's side was a test of his patience, in a way that nothing else had ever been before. He almost resented the avalanche he needed to divert from a popular holiday resort in Switzerland , the fire he needed to put out in Coast City. No call was left unanswered, but unusually Superman didn't stay long enough to offer words of hope, encouragement or solace.</p>
<p>Instead, he flew back to the Manor and retook his place in the armchair near the foot of Bruce's bed.</p>
<p>But this time, as he flew back after saving a plane with critical engine failure, something was different. This time his chair was already occupied…and Bruce had woken up.</p>
<p>Typical! Clark exclaimed to himself, his words lost to the air around him. Bruce had to wake up in the one moment when Clark wasn't there. He wouldn't see that Clark has stood sentinel at his side but instead that he had left the injured man alone. Or worse, he would think that Arthur cared more than Clark did! Because after a second sweep just to be sure, Clark knew that that was who was in Bruce's room. Aquaman, who had shown very little in the way of care or concern for the Bat at all, was sat in Clarks chair and talking softly to the newly conscious Bruce.</p>
<p>Clark tuned in more closely to hear what was being said, just in case Arthur was being his usual grating self and Bruce needed rescuing again.</p>
<p>"… careful man. We were all really worried about you."<br/>"You don't need to worry about me." Bruce almost sounded like he was growling, until Clark realised it must have been his dry throat from being asleep for the best part of a day.</p>
<p>Arthur stood up and walked to Bruce's bedside, pouring a glass of water from a pitcher Alfred had left there. He handed it to Bruce, who managed to slowly haul himself more upright to take it. Arthur clearly knew better than to try and help him, waiting for Bruce to do it himself.</p>
<p>When Bruce finally had hold of the glass Arthur carried on as if there had been no pause in their conversation.</p>
<p>"Bullshit. We know we don't have to worry about you, but that doesn't mean you'll get us to stop. And it doesn't mean we think you're weak or incapable either so you can get that look off your face."</p>
<p>Clark had come to a stop in mid-air above the mansion, his x-ray vision allowing him to observe the scene without being noticed. He smirked as he saw Bruces lips thin but the scowl that had been there a second before Arthurs comment was gone.</p>
<p>The two men sat in silence for several moments, Bruce sipping at his water and Arthur leaning back in the armchair with a small smile on his lips. Despite the antagonism between the two heroes, the silence was not an uncomfortable one. Clark watched as Bruce finished his water and Arthur rose to take the glass from his fingers and place it back on the nightstand. Clark heard, with a deafening clarity, as the tips of Arthurs fingers brushed across the skin of Bruces knuckles, and he felt his stomach clench at the thought that it had been deliberate, that Arthur was going to be competition for Bruces heart.</p>
<p>Clark decided he had been watching for long enough and began to slowly drop towards the balcony to Bruces room. By the time he landed, Arthur was back in the armchair and Bruce was slowly lowering himself down to sleep some more. This alone was the biggest sign of the extent of Bruces injuries. This small concession towards rest that would usually take the combined power of Alfred and Diana to achieve.</p>
<p>"Clark. I was just keeping your seat warm." Arthur said as he noticed Clark land. "How very kind of you." Clark ground out, momentarily too tired and frustrated to hide his sour mood. Aquaman rose from the chair with a half smirk at Clark and walked over to Bruce. He gave the increasingly sleepy man a gentle punch to the shoulder but his voice was warm when he said "Sleep well, Bats." He waved goodbye to Clark while shooting him a smug grin and made his exit from the room, with Clarks slightly reddening eyes on him until the door was closed between them.</p>
<p>Clark took a deep breath before shifting his gaze to the man in the bed. Bruces eyes were open but narrowed as he watched Clark. Had he noticed Clarks firm, dare he say aggressive, stance and the lack of the usual friendly greeting or chat between the two men. As Clark settled himself back in the armchair, Bruce raised an eyebrow. Clark knew exactly what it meant. The only way Bruces "what the hell was that all about?" could have been communicated more clearly was if he had actually used his words and Clark briefly stifled a giggle at how unlikely that little scenario was. Instead, Clark chose to employ his most inoffensively passive face and simply watched Bruce succumb to sleep despite the Bats clear desire to stay awake and challenge Clarks unusual behaviour.</p>
<p>For the following 3 days, while Bruce recovered, Clark left only to attend to emergencies that no one else could handle. He called in sick to his job at the Planet, claiming a badly sprained knee that meant he couldn't get into the office but could work from home, and spent every minute near Bruce. Every time he returned from an emergency he would kick someone different out of Bruces room, getting less and less subtle until he got rid of Barry with nothing more than a glare and a nod towards the door. By the third day the only one Clark would suffer to be in the room for more than 15 minutes was Alfred, and Bruce had finally had enough.</p>
<p>"Clark!" Bruce bit out after Barry had tried to visit again and Clark had practically shut the door on him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" Clark asked, trying for innocence and missing by a mile.</p>
<p>"You know what I mean! You've been acting like my personal guard dog since I woke up. I'm healing well, I can handle a conversation with members of my team. You don't have to keep scaring them off, " Bruce practically growled "I realise I'm the fragile human here but I don't appreciate you trying to treat me like glass."</p>
<p>Clark was taken aback.</p>
<p>"That's not… I don't think…"</p>
<p>"No? Then how come I haven't been able to have a single league related conversation without you shooing someone away? How come whenever Alfred and I try to talk about a case you grind your teeth so hard I can hear it across the room? I have tolerated it for the last 2 days because I have needed the rest but I am not going to let it continue. I am a valuable member of this team. I may not be invulnerable but don't you think for one second that you can bench me just because of a slight injury"</p>
<p>Clark straightened his back and tore his glasses off his face in frustration. "A slight injury? A slight injury? You were captured, beaten, electrocuted by your own security measures and barely survived and you want to call that a SLIGHT injury?" Clark was aware of his voice rising, but could do nothing to stop it as his concern and frustration warred within him.</p>
<p>"Given our line of work, Clark, yes, I would call that a slight injury. I have come out of many fights far worse and survived to tell the tale. In fact, you yourself have caused me far worse injuries and I have got back up." Bruce swung his legs over the side of the bed and started to get up, clearly needing to pace his frustration out as he so often did in the cave. "I have given a great deal to build this team, Kent, and you are not stopping me from being a part of it…"</p>
<p>Bruce was cut off as Clark moved to stand in front of him, preventing him from getting to his feet.</p>
<p>"Clark" Bruce practically growled, but Clark caught the split second indrawn breath, the briefest widening of his pupils before Bruces ironclad control could moderate his responses.</p>
<p>Clark was not the strategist that Bruce was and he often threw caution to the wind, even when perhaps he shouldn't. The tension and stress of the last few days suddenly wrestled control from Clarks rational mind and he found himself leaning down and gently pressing his forehead to Bruces. He felt it as Bruce stiffened beneath him and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the rejection that would obviously be there.</p>
<p>"I don't think you're a fragile human. You are one of the most resilient, stubborn and brave men I have ever known. I'm the weak link here, Bruce." he dragged in a shaking breath, opening his eyes to see Bruce's piercing blue gaze mere centimeters away "You have no idea what it did to me, seeing you so badly hurt. Feeling you so still as I carried you back here. I thought it was over. That you were going to die. And it almost killed me. You came back this time. But if ever you didn't, I'd never recover." Clark let his eyes drift closed once more, waiting for the moment when Bruce pushed him away. But it didn't come.</p>
<p>Clark felt Bruces fingers gently coaxing his fists, which were clenched in the bedsheets, to open. Clark took a deep breath and flattened his palms to the bed as Bruces fingers slowly stroked up his forearms, upper arms and finally linked lightly behind his neck.</p>
<p>The touch lit a greed in Clark that he had never experienced before. A desire to own and claim and possess the man beneath him in every possible way. He began to shiver with the need that was crawling through him, and the knowledge that when this moment ended and he was left destitute he would never ever recover.</p>
<p>Bruces fingers snaked into his hair, large calloused hands cupping the back of his head and inexorably guiding Clark to his knees with only a touch. Clark dropped, no longer leaning over Bruce but now at eye level with his sculpted chest. Or he would have been if he could bring himself to open his eyes.</p>
<p>"Clark"</p>
<p>This time his name sounded like a prayer, not a growl, and the shock made his eyes fly open. He lifted his head to look up at Bruce and his breath was stolen from him. There was a light to Bruces eyes that was unearthly, ethereally, beautiful. His expression was indescribable, but no less beautiful for being beyond the bounds of language, and Clark knew that he had never and would never see anything that made his heart flutter the way it was right now.</p>
<p>Clark couldn't deny himself any longer. He took to his feet once more, forcing Bruce to tip his head back to maintain eye contact and drop his hands to Clarks hips. A split-second of doubt scurried across Bruces face but Clark bent slowly down to press their lips together. Neither man closed their eyes during this brief few seconds of contact, eyes only drifting closed as they separated and once again rested their foreheads together.</p>
<p>Bruce sighed. "I will get hurt again, Clark." Clark winced and shook his head a fraction. "I will. It's inevitable. And if you don't think you will be able to handle that without endangering the team or yourself, in the moment or after it, then this stops now and we never speak of it again."</p>
<p>Clark opened his eyes once more and caught Bruces gaze. It was as hard as flint. If he hadn't seen the adoration, even love, in those eyes just a moment ago, he would never have believed it was possible. Bruce meant this. It was his deal breaker. And Clark had no idea if he could make the promise the Bat so clearly wanted.</p>
<p>"I …"</p>
<p>"You have to be sure, Clark. Because I am not going to stop. Not until I am too broken to continue. And you will have to watch me break, and you will have to handle it."</p>
<p>Bruce withdrew his hands from Clarks hips and placed them carefully on the bed. Clark took his own hands from Bruces shoulders, where they had fallen during their kiss, and stood up fully. The disconnect between them almost felt like being hit with Kryptonite for how unbalanced and weak he suddenly felt.</p>
<p>"Work out how you feel Clark." Bruce grinned a lopsided but rueful grin "I'm not going anywhere."</p>
<p>Clark saw Bruces words for the dismissal they were and turned to walk onto the balcony.</p>
<p>"Clark" Bruces voice caused him to turn back to the bed once more. "I am Batman."</p>
<p>There was an almost pleading note to his voice, though his eyes were still hard. Clark nodded, hearing Bruces true meaning in those three words.</p>
<p>Clark closed the door as he stepped onto the balcony and he rose into the air. He kept moving upwards, further and further, until he floated at the very edge of the atmosphere in the strange limbo where he could still hear but the sound of the Earth was muted to a dull buzz.</p>
<p>He closed his eyes and just let himself feel. His feelings for Bruce had moved way beyond attraction now. He was well on the way to falling in love. But it wasn't the safe, comfortable kind of love he had felt for Lois. This was something deeper, more dangerous, and darker. He tried to unpack his feelings, tidy them into logical little spaces but found that he couldn't. There was nothing he could do to stop this feeling now. He was going to love Bruce whether they were together or not. Which meant if Bruce was hurt, he would hurt. If Bruce was in danger, he would want to be there. If they allowed themselves this relationship would Clark be any more likely to want to protect Bruce? Probably not. But would he be able to benefit from the feeling of Bruce in his arms when the fights were over? Definitely. Would that assuage his worry more than being alone and separated from the Dark Knight? Of course it would.</p>
<p>And that was the answer to the biggest question. Would being together be worth the inevitable pain when either of them were hurt or worse? Absolutely. Every second he could get with Bruce would be worth a million heartaches now he knew the Gothamite felt for him too.</p>
<p>He smiled as he allowed gravity to exert her hold over him once more, plummeting through the atmosphere to return to Bruces side.</p>
<p>He knew things would be far from easy for them, but he also knew that Bruce was worth any strife they may face. His desire to possess surged up within him once more as he drew closer and closer to Bruce's balcony. He could tell that Bruce was asleep as he alighted on the balcony so he silently took his customary place in the arm chair and waited for the moment Bruce woke up and realised what Clark had decided.</p>
<p>He watched Bruce sleep, silently vowing that anyone who wanted a piece of his love would have to go through him. Bruce was his now, and there was no way he would give any part of him up. He was just greedy that way.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Lust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three weeks. Three weeks!!</p>
<p>It had been three beautiful, emotional, and frustrating weeks since Clark had woken up in Bruces armchair  to find the man himself watching him with carefully disguised hope in his eyes. Three weeks since they had decided that they wanted to pursue some kind of relationship. Three weeks since Clark had lain beside Bruce and kissed him until Bruce winced with the pain of still healing injuries.</p>
<p>Clark had backed off a little then, trying to make sure that Bruce was fully and fighting fit before they tried anything more strenuous. More fool him, because now it was three weeks later and they still hadn't managed more than some truly brain melting make-out sessions before one of them was called away, or they were interrupted in some other way.</p>
<p>Clark had never actually believed blue balls was a thing, just some pathetic excuse that entitled men used as a reason why they deserved sex from women even if they were, objectively, assholes. But he was starting to believe it now. He honestly felt like his skin was crawling every time he drew close to Bruce. The creeping sensation of lust dragging itself over his skin was intensifying every time they got near but had to break apart.</p>
<p>Clark was sure Bruce was enjoying it, in some twisted, masochistic way that was all Bat. Clark was definitely not enjoying it. Especially not right now, when he was once again stuck at a high society fundraiser watching Bruce glad hand and grin at every simpering model, mildly offended Gotham matron, and egotistical millionaire that crossed his path.</p>
<p>Crack!</p>
<p>Shit. Clark looked down to see the stem of the champagne flute in his hand had snapped. Again. This was the third one tonight. Someone was bound to notice something soon if he didn't get a grip on himself. He pushed off from the wall he had been leaning against and moved towards the bar. The previous two broken flutes had been deposited in plant pots but he felt comfortable in taking this one to the bar to apologise and ask for a refill. The barman asked if his hand was cut, but on seeing it was fine simply apologised and passed Clark a new glass.</p>
<p>Clark turned away, only to come face to face with Bruce. Clark was hit with another surge of lust, reaching out to touch  before he could stop himself, but dragging his hand back before it could make contact or draw anyone's attention. Bruce noticed and plastered on his playboy smirk and leaning obnoxiously (deliciously) close to put his empty glass on the bar behind Clark.</p>
<p>"Can I get you another Mr Wayne?" The barman asked.</p>
<p>"No, thank you." He caught Clarks eye quickly, before glancing back at the Barman "I'm just heading out."</p>
<p>Clark watched as Bruce left, understanding that something Bat related had called Bruce away. He started to circulate the party a little more freely now the distraction of Bruce's… everything had been removed from the space. He got some excellent quotes for his article, and even managed to wrangle a few minutes alone with the host of the party, a fundraiser to provide additional school equipment to some of the underfunded districts in Gotham, to discuss their larger plans for the creation of a scholarship fund and the planned apprenticeship scheme to give even the lowest academic achievers a chance to find a space in which to thrive. It was through this conversation that Clark learned Wayne Enterprises had actually been the ones to suggest the apprenticeship programme, and was the first company to agree to participate. In fact, Bruce had even convinced 3 other major companies to join the scheme during the party, much to the unbridled joy of the enthusiastic chairman of the charity.</p>
<p>Clark stepped outside onto the balcony after his interview with the host and took a moment to breathe. Knowing Bruce had quite probably come up with the apprenticeships idea himself, and the realisation that his smiles and charm had quite possibly been what brought 3 other CEOs on board, made Clarks chest warm and fluttery. But somehow also sunk the claws of lust even deeper into his already captive body.</p>
<p>Bruce Wayne was an act. A carefully crafted mask behind which hid a heart unlike any other. Some of the league - Arthur - had been known to call Bruce heartless on more than one occasion. Regarding his impassionate review of tactics and death tolls following disasters as a sign he didn't care for those that were lost. But Clark knew that was a million miles from the truth. Bruce's heart consumed him. It was his heart that drove him to become the Bat, to recover from a loss that had almost shattered it. It was his heart that compelled him to throw himself bodily into harms way to save a world that saw only a creature of darkness or a caricature of wealth and opulence. It was his heart that had brought him here tonight, donning the mask he liked least in order to help people he didn't know to become more than they otherwise might.</p>
<p>And Clark held a small part of that heart. The weight of it was momentarily too much - even for Superman. He needed to leave. He carefully left the ballroom, returning the cheery wave the host sent his way, not knowing that what she had told him could have possibly affected him so profoundly.</p>
<p>God, he wanted Bruce so much. He wanted to rain affection and pleasure on a body that knew only punishment and violence. He wanted to grace every bruise and scar and wound with all the love his Kryptonian heart possessed. He wanted to pour himself into place beside that wonderful heart, create a layer of strength and protection, to ensure it would never - could never - be broken.</p>
<p>His desire for Bruce was consuming, devastating. He ducked into an alleyway and quickly changed into his costume, before taking to the skies over Gotham. He made sure to stay high, to not seem as though he was stalking or watching Bruce, but he just had to see him - even from afar. He switched to his x-ray vision and searched for the tell-tale flare of white that represented Bruces leadlined cowl.</p>
<p>Clark found his shape crouched at the corner of a roof above a questionable deal being committed below him. There were easily 12 men in the street below, and Clark watched as money changed hands and the two parties, plus entourage, began to separate. Only then did the Bat descend, clearly now having the evidence of the exchange for the police. Every move of his body was a revelation to Clark, every punch, kick, dodge, weave, awoke visions of how that strength and speed might feel pounding into him, how that flexibility might be put to good use in a variety of increasingly implausible positions and how that grace would look, bowing and arching beneath or above him.</p>
<p>Clark broke the sound barrier as he flew back to his apartment, fleeing in shame at how carnal his thoughts had become.</p>
<p>He had never felt lust like it before. Burning, consuming and terrifyingly wonderful. He was barely half out of the suit before he took himself in hand, imaging Bruce spread out naked on the bed before him. He came embarrassingly hard and quickly. He finished undressing and got into bed, trying desperately to clear his mind of Bruce and shake off the fizz of lust that still filled him.</p>
<p>Less than 12 minutes later, just as he was beginning to relax, he heard the sub human-hearing chime that told him to get to his communicator. He sat up instantly, waiting to be told where he was needed, but stopped at the intake of breath on the line.</p>
<p>"Clark"</p>
<p>The tone of Bruce's voice turned Clarks desire back up to 11. His cock immediately twitched with interest as he listed to Bruce breathe. He reached for his communicator.</p>
<p>"I'm here."</p>
<p>"Were you watching me earlier?" The voice was unmistakably teasing, deep and breathy and echoing the way only sounds from Bruce's bedroom ever managed.</p>
<p>"Maybe" Clark replied, trying to sound alluring but possibly just sounding breathless.</p>
<p>"Did you like what you saw?"</p>
<p>There was no reply for that. Clark just let out a deep groan, allowing his free hand to wander back down between his legs.</p>
<p>"Have you been thinking about me, Clark?"</p>
<p>"God, yes." Clark scraped his nails gently up and down the insides of his thighs</p>
<p>"What have you been thinking?"</p>
<p>Clark usually was not at all confident with dirty talk, but somehow his lips began to move of their own accord and all the desperation of the last three weeks, and before if he's honest, came pouring out.</p>
<p>"I was thinking how good it would feel to have you touch me. Those hands of yours taking me apart like a piece of your kit. First feeling the leather of your gloves, then the heat of your fingers as you tinker with me the way you do with your equipment. Thinking of how hard your muscles will feel when I push you to the edge of your endurance. Feeling them shake and tremble as you ride me, or I ride you. Wondering if your voice would get as deep as the modulator when you're begging me to make you come. Imagining how flexible you really are and how we could put that to good use."</p>
<p>Clark paused briefly to draw breath as his hand moved slowly but firmly on his now fully erect cock. In the silence he could hear Bruce's breathing, faster than he's ever heard it outside of their toughest and longest fights. The tell-tale hitch of his breathing telling Clark he was not the only one touching himself right now.</p>
<p>"Clark." Bruce moaned. And Clark already knew he would dedicate a truly incomprehensible amount of time to hearing his name in that voice again. "Come here."</p>
<p>Clark flew out of his bed and was most of the way across the bay before realising that he, somehow, still had his hand around his cock. He pulled his hand out of his pyjama bottoms and carried on, hoping the cold air would calm his blush. He landed on Bruce's balcony 4 and a half seconds later.</p>
<p>He stepped into the room and turned away to shut and lock the balcony doors behind him. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then turned to look at Bruce.</p>
<p>It was the most tantalising sight he had ever seen.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Gluttony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clark finally gets Bruce alone. And he...indulges.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, so I am truly terrible at writing smut. But I tried.</p>
<p>Hope people like it.</p>
<p>I have been so moved by all your comments and I plan to reply to them all right now! But while I am doing that, enjoy the final chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bruce was reclined naked on the bed, covers dangling off the foot, and his torso propped up with a mountain of fluffy pillows. His right hand was wrapped tightly around his cock while his left was lay on the pillow above his head. His feet were drawn together and his knees fell open, fully on display to Clarks ravenous gaze.</p>
<p>Clark could live off this sight alone. He stood transfixed, devouring Bruce with his eyes, taking in every inch of the scarred perfection before him. Clark lifted his gaze from Bruces hand wrapped around his cock and felt the breath punched out of him at the beauty of lust glazed eyes in Bruces deliciously handsome face.</p>
<p>His hair was damp and Clark could smell the scent of Bruces shower gel in the air. He'd obviously just showered and although Bruce's shower gel smelt good, Clark wanted to get closer, to smell the leather, solder and musk that made up the natural scent of Bruces skin.</p>
<p>Bruce's eyes had been roaming over Clarks face and torso while Clark had been staring, and he watched with satisfaction as Bruces already lust blown pupils widened impossibly further at the sight of Clark slowly sliding his pyjama pants down his legs to reveal his lack of underwear.</p>
<p>Clark was not usually a vain man, but with Bruce's eyes on him, he preened. He stood up to his fullest height, shrugging off the posture of mild mannered Clark Kent and pulling on the towering dominance of Superman. He slowly dragged his hands over his skin as Bruce watched; tracing his abs with his left while stroking his fingers up and down his thighs with his right.</p>
<p>Bruce gave a slightly ragged gasp and squeezed his cock around the base for a moment. Then he, very deliberately, drew his hand from himself and brought it slowly above his head to join his left as he straightened out his legs, keeping them wide apart. A slow smirk spread across his lips and his eyebrow rose. A challenge laid down as clearly as if Bruce had thrown an actual gauntlet between them.</p>
<p>Clark was not one to back down from a challenge.</p>
<p>He was on the bed, knelt between Bruce's legs, in the time it took Bruce to blink. The puff of wind his speed created caused goosebumps to erupt on Bruces skin and his nipples pebbled before Clarks eyes.</p>
<p>He practically dived forward, bringing their lips together in a kiss that still managed to be tender despite the physical force behind it. They kissed deeply and passionately, Bruces hands in Clarks hair, until Bruce pulled away, gasping for breath. Clark almost didn't let him go, so desperately hungry for the taste of Bruces mouth was he.</p>
<p>While Bruce caught his breath, Clark brought his lips to the muscular chest before him. The skin was littered with scars; burns, cuts… was that a bullet wound?! But that in no way tainted the beauty of the body before him. Instead it made it all the more remarkable. The violence that this body had had inflicted upon it and yet it was still strong, powerful, gorgeous.</p>
<p>Clark was almost drunk on the feeling of finally -  finally - having Bruce like this, finally being able to bring their passion together in something other than the fight for justice.</p>
<p>Clark had been kissing his way down Bruces torso while the older man watched from beneath heavy lidded eyes, his breath coming easy again, if a little faster than usual thanks to Clarks ministrations. Clark shuffled himself backwards slightly before diving down and sucking Bruces not inconsiderable length down in one stroke. Bruce let out a strangled yell, a sound that made Clark desperate to hear more like it, and threw his head back in the pillows. His hands, still in Clarks hair, reflexively clenched. Had Clark been any other man the strength with which those hands were pulling his hair would have hurt. Instead Clark revelled in the sensation.</p>
<p>He sucked and swirled his tongue greedily around Bruces cock, wringing every moan, gasp and sigh he could manage from Bruces mouth and hoarding each one in his perfect memory. He was ravenous for them. For each sound, each flex of muscle, the taste and smell and feel of Bruce.</p>
<p>Nothing else would ever sate him again. Nothing would come close to the experience of the beautiful man beneath him.</p>
<p>The hands in his hair tightened further and Bruce growled a warning, but Clark was too greedy to stop. He heard the stuttered gasp as Bruce came, felt the pulse of his cock and the flood of warm, salty liquid into his mouth. He swallowed, gently sucking and licking through the aftershocks until he released Bruce from his mouth before the pleasure could turn to over stimulation.</p>
<p>Clark rolled over and stretched out as far as he could, kicking his legs up slightly so his feet could hang over the footboard. His head was resting on Bruces thigh and he had an upside down and slightly lopsided view of Bruces face as he came down from his orgasm. Bruces hands were in his hair again, stroking gently this time, and Clark closed his eyes for a moment to revel in the feeling. He was still hard and aching, but somehow his desire felt less urgent. He knew there was no way Bruce would leave him wanting and he needed a few moments to rein himself in again. He had gotten totally overwhelmed while tasting Bruce. All his plans for a romantic and passionate first time together had been steamrollered by his own desire to touch and taste as much of Bruce as he could.</p>
<p>And, if the sounds he had been making and the blissed out look on his face were anything to go by, Bruce had thoroughly enjoyed it.</p>
<p>"You look like the cat that got the cream" Bruce muttered softly after a few moments of quiet.<br/>Clark just smiled lazily, without even bothering to open his eyes. Peace descended between them again for almost 5 whole minutes until Bruce broke it.</p>
<p>"Your turn." he said.</p>
<p>There was so much heat in his voice that Clarks eyes snapped open immediately.<br/>In a move of such grace Clark could barely comprehend it, Bruce pulled his leg outwards from beneath Clarks head and swung it back over him before rolling quickly away and pulling himself onto all fours. Clark doubted he could have looked so good doing it!</p>
<p>Bruce crawled towards him and dropped his head into a deep, languid kiss. He tugged lightly at Clarks arm as they kissed, encouraging him to move up the bed and lie more comfortably on the pillows, their lips never parting for more than the time of a quick breath.</p>
<p>Clark lay back and just felt it as Bruce… well, there was no other word for it. Bruce was worshipping him. Breathing kisses and life all over Clarks skin. By the time Bruce was done, Clark was sure that every inch of his skin, with exception of a very specific organ, had been kissed or caressed by Bruce.</p>
<p>Clark was desperate for release. He was practically whining, and Bruce had needed to, occasionally, add a bite into the mix to make Clark realise that the sounds he was making were causing the glasses and windows to vibrate.</p>
<p>When Bruce did take Clark into his mouth, he lasted barely 20 seconds before he was shaking and coming. Like him, Bruce had refused to pull off, despite a warning. Unlike him, Bruce did not ease off before over sensitivity kicked in. It was only when Clark grabbed him under the shoulders and hauled him back up his body that Bruce finally let go.</p>
<p>They leaned down in unison to pull  the blankets back up the bed, and each dragged a couple of pillows from the pile. Comfortably warm, sated and wrapped in each others arms, Clark had the thought again. Bruce had ruined him for anyone else. No one would ever fill Clark with this much desire, this much comfort or this much love.</p>
<p>Things with Bruce were not likely to be easy forever. Or even for long, if Clark was honest. But the way he felt in this moment, the bone deep feeling that his body, heart and soul were all sated in this place. He knew he would never be able to let it go. Looking at Bruce, tucked in his arms, he knew he would fight every day to remain at the side of this extraordinary man.</p>
<p>His mother had always told him. He was a glutton for punishment.</p>
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